"Why don't you, yourself, Betty Nelson?" demanded Mollie Billette, quickly, her dark eyes flashing. You meet us as if—as if something terrible had happened, and because we live up to the part, and behave ourselves, you"
"Hush, please," begged gentle Amy, for well she knew Mollie's failing—an exceedingly quick temper.
"I beg your pardon," spoke Mollie, contritely. "I forgot myself."
"That's all right," said Betty, with a smile. "I don't blame you. But we must all help Grace now. She feels very bad."
As the three entered the library they saw their chum standing near a window, looking out over the snow-covered lawn. Grace did not turn at the approach of her friends.
Then Amy stole softly up to her, and, reaching up her arms, tried to put them around Grace's neck. But Grace was tall, while Amy was rather short, so the little act of kindness could not be carried out.
Mollie laughed a little. She could not help it.
Amy flushed. She was rather sensitive on the point of her stature.
"Don't mind them, Amy," said Grace quickly, as she turned about, placing her own arms around
